“So the man in that portrait in the sitting room… the viceroy. You don’t mean…?” Lorenza asked.
“One of my brothers, I assume,” Rialta said. “I have never met him, of course, but all the disgusting decadence and opulence of this manor revealed him as soon as we walked through the front door. I assume that, unlike my mother, his mother toed the line and he was allowed to use the kingdom’s resources to do whatever he pleased. And when I saw his portrait, that sealed it. Just like all the rest of us—just like me—he has our father’s eyes.”
“Rialta, I’m so sorry,” Remmy said softly. “That sounds… well that just sounds terrible.”
“Damn straight, Remmy,” Lorenza said. “You poor kid…”
“What are you talking about?” Rialta said, confused as she looked up to Lorenza and Remmy. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I was so selfish, so cowardly, so horrible, that I submitted all of you to the evils of that crypt, just so that I could rush you all out of there faster— just so that I wouldn’t have to reveal myself!”
“Uh, no, Rialta,” John said, stepping forward, “you didn’t force us to do anything. We all decided to take on the task of our own free will, risks and all. No offense, but I thought you would have learned by now that your opinion regarding what we should do very rarely has any influence on me whatsoever.” He gave her a smirk and a wink.
Rialta laughed. She could not help herself, for there was some genuine truth to John’s words, even if he was saying this just to make her feel better.
“Also, what exactly was the moral to your story?” John asked. “I don’t care if he’s a king. As far as I’m concerned, your dad’s a deadbeat douchebag. We’re supposed to think you’ve been ‘disgraced’ because he forced his wife and daughter to flee their home on threat of death? You must be out of your mind.”
“I find myself in the rather dubious position of having to agree with John,” Lorenza said. “May I have permission to approach you, Rialta?” she asked Rialta.
“Of course you can!” Rialta shouted, “And don’t you dare ask me something so silly!”
Lorneza rushed forward, pulling Rialta into a tight hug. “It’s all right, hon,” she whispered. “None of this was your fault, you understand? None of it.”
Just like that, thirteen years of terrible burdens came crashing down around Rialta. Thirteen years of fending for herself in the orphanage. Thirteen years of developing a tough, gritty disposition because there was no alternative. Thirteen years of knowing that at any moment, the king could have a change of heart, that any day could be the day when she met the same fate as her mother—snuffed out without a second thought. And the solace of Lorenza’s embrace was overwhelming. The comfort of having someone hold her—even if it was just for a moment. To be the protected and not the protector. To be granted permission to be small, and vulnerable, and scared. It was relief. Sheer relief. She sobbed into Lorenza’s shoulder for what felt like hours.
Without a word, Nivin, Remmy, and John silently agreed that it would be best to leave Rialta and Lorenza alone for a moment, each of them treading back up toward the manor house in silence.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Very well done!” Leiford exclaimed.
Rialta and the others were all back in the foyer of the manor house, a small herd of servants tending to them with offers of coffee, tea, sandwiches, and cookies. Leiford had since sent a young scullery maid into the crypt to confirm the deed was done, and when she returned—looking very green in the face—she nonetheless confirmed that the rats were finished. Leiford provided John with a small satchel full of purple coins, which John immediately split into five equal portions among the group.
“I must insist that the five of you stay the night,” Leiford said. “It’s getting awfully late, and you won’t be able to make it back to the Chasm before sunset. The master would be most displeased if he found out that I did not extend his gracious hospitality to you all, you see, and—”
He stopped mid-sentence, noticing Rialta’s reddened, swollen eyes.
“Are you all right, miss?”
Rialta opened her mouth to respond, but Lorenza cut her off. “She’s fine, Leiford. Just not a fan of vermin is all.”
“Oh my,” Leiford said shaking his head. “Bit off a bit more than you could chew with this task, eh? I apologize that the infestation got so out of hand, but I do thank you for taking the job, miss.”
“Yeah, yeah, the fine lady accepts your sympathies or whatever,” John said, waving his hand dismissively. “Now, Leiford, I assume your boy’s infamous hospitality includes a decent supper, right? We can’t stay the night on an empty stomach, can we?”
“The viceroy’s hospitality does indeed include board,” Leiford said, narrowing his eyes at John. “And it includes a bath, too—a bath to be taken before supper, mind you,” he added, grimacing at the bloodstains on John’s armor. “I’ve prepared guest bedrooms on the second floor. You’ll find them if you follow the staircase through this door,” he added, pointing to the door across the room from the entryway.
“Excellent!” John said, stripping off his armor and tossing it on the floor. “Have someone wash that, will you?
Leiford let out a grunt of disgust. He snapped his fingers, and three well-dressed men immediately appeared from the doorway at the opposite end of the room.
“One of you fetch that armor and see that it’s cleaned by morning,” he barked. “I’ll need someone to show the ladies to their rooms and the supposed… gentlemen to theirs,” he added tersely. “I’ll see you all at dinner once you’ve had a chance to clean up.”
Chapter 21
Midnight Antics
“Remmy, wake up!”
Remmy awoke with a start to find John standing next to his bed. “Good lord,” Remmy said, clutching at his chest. “You scared me, John!”
Something about John’s presence triggered his memory, and he suddenly recalled that he was staying in the great manor house on Tyntala. Everything came crashing back to him—the rats in the crypt, Rialta’s confession, and the extravagant dinner they had enjoyed just a few hours ago. He craned his neck to look beside John. The light of a few dim candles lit the corners of the absurdly large guest bedroom. Much like the rest of the manor, this room was plastered with portraits of rich-looking people whom Remmy could neither identify nor identify with. An oak nightstand sat beside his four-poster bed, complete with a large silver water pitcher and a few crystal glasses.
“I’m sorry, Remmy, but listen to me! I’ve been doing a bit of snooping around, and I think I found the viceroy’s bedroom! Let’s go check it out!” John said with a broad grin.
“I don’t know, John. I think you’ve probably pilfered enough from this place already, right?”
“Not to steal,” John said in an airy tone, “just to do a bit of looking around is all. It isn’t every day you get to have a good, unsupervised look around a viceroy’s bedroom, is it?”
Remmy couldn’t help but smile as a peculiar feeling halfway between anxiety and excitement rose up within him. “All right, but just for a few minutes, okay?” he asked.
“Of course!” John said. “Follow my lead.”
John opened the guestroom door and crept out into the hall, which was dimly lit with a series of sconces all along this wing of the manor. He looked down both sides of the hall before signaling for Remmy to follow him. Remmy obliged, doing his best to keep quiet as he snuck behind John. Soon they came to a junction at the far end of the wing, and John held out a hand. Remmy waited for John to check the next hallway, then followed him as he proceeded down the entrance to the right. This corridor came to an abrupt end at a large set of double doors completely unlike any other door that Remmy had seen in this part of the manor.
“This has got to be it,” John whispered. “Keep watch for me, okay?” he said while slipping a set of lockpicking tools from his pocket.
Remmy nodded and turned to watch John’s back as he worked on the door. A subtle
nausea settled in Remmy’s stomach as his eyes searched the other end of the hall. The massive manor was so huge that, despite the light provided by the sconces, the corridor seemed to end in a pitch-dark abyss. For a few fleeting seconds, Remmy thought he had seen movement in the distance, but no one emerged from the darkness.
“Got it,” John said, and the lock released with a soft clicking noise. “Come on.”
Remmy and John entered the viceroy’s bedroom, which was easily four times as large as any of the guest bedrooms.
The viceroy is apparently pretty full of himself, Remmy thought as he took in the sights of the room. All along the walls of this enormous room hung portraits of the viceroy in various poses of stateliness, each of which was illuminated by the pale, ghostly moonlight filtering in through towering windows on the opposite end of the room. Decorative polished wainscoting lined the walls, and a gigantic marble mantle hung over a fireplace at the far end of the room beside an equally large desk and an overstuffed chair. A very large, very comfortable-looking bed was tucked into the right corner nearest the door.
“Look at this asshole!” John said between stifled laughs as he looked at all the portraits. “Can you believe this guy?”
“Hush!” Remmy said, but he was having trouble not laughing himself. It felt like a stroke of justice to learn that Rialta’s spoiled brother was such an unaware, narcissistic clown.
“Okay, okay, let’s check this place out,” John said, closing the door behind him.
Remmy tip-toed into the room and toward the door of what looked to be a closet while John walked toward the desk. Remmy carefully opened the door to find a walk-in wardrobe filled with fine wools and silks. He snatched a white mantle with silver trim hanging from a hook on the wall and held it up to get a better look at it. It was without a doubt the finest piece of clothing he had ever seen in his life. The material was so perfectly smooth that it felt as though he was running his fingers across the surface of a still pond as he held it. The stitching was so perfect and precise that it appeared to be an object born from nature. With a quick glance back at the wardrobe entrance, he threw the robes on over his shoulders. He was very pleased to find that, despite how tall the viceroy was depicted in his portraits, the robe seemed to fit Remmy’s short, lanky frame perfectly. He stepped back into the bedroom.
“Bow before me, peasant!” Remmy said with a great flourish of his hands.
“Whoa, Remmy,” John said. “That actually looks really good on you.”
“You think so?” Remmy said, looking down at himself.
“Hell yeah! But excuse me a moment, I have some business to attend to over here,” John said as he took a fountain pen from the desk and approached one of the larger portraits in the room.
“John! What are you doing?” Remmy whispered.
“Just adding a bit of flair,” John said.
As John came away from the portrait, Remmy stared openmouthed at the changes John had made. John had given the viceroy a very patchy, unflattering neckbeard and added a little name patch to his lapel which read: ‘Prince Assface.’
Remmy broke into a fit of wild giggles, then motioned for John to hand him the pen. John obliged with a smile. Remmy went up to the portrait, then added the word ‘Stupid’ to the top of John’s drawn-in name patch. He giggled even harder as he walked back toward John.
“…Good one, Rem,” John said.
Remmy stopped laughing at once. “Wait, John, do you hear something?” he asked.
They both stood still as a distant, rhythmic tapping sound echoed from somewhere in the hall outside the room.
“Damn it,” John said, his eyes opening wide. “Someone’s coming. Come on!” He grabbed Remmy by the arm and ran toward the bed. The pair of them dove under it just in time. They watched from the gap between the floor and the bed skirt as Leiford opened the door and peered into the room. He held a small lantern out in front of him.
“Hello?” Leiford called cautiously into the room. Though his heart was beating furiously, Remmy took at least some comfort in how nervous and apprehensive Leiford sounded.
“Is anyone in here?” Leiford said as he took a few tentative steps into the room. He swung the lantern around from side to side for a few moments before turning back to the door. To Remmy’s relief, Leiford was apparently too cowardly to investigate any further—he left at once, not noticing the vandalized portrait or that the closet door was still open.
“Let’s get out of here while we can,” John said. Remmy nodded, and the two of them scurried from under the bed. Remmy quickly ran across the room and shut the door to the closet before they left.
It wasn’t until they were back in the safety of their own room that Remmy caught a glance of his reflection in a mirror hanging above the dresser. He froze in horror, and his own terrified reflection stared back at him. He was still wearing the viceroy’s royal robes.
“Shit!” he uttered in a panic.
“What?” John asked as he approached his bed.
“Shit! Just—just—shit!” Remmy said, frantically waving his hands down at the robes he was wearing.
“Ohhhhhh yeah,” John said slowly with a little shake of his head. “I forgot you had that on.”
“What do I do?” Remmy hissed.
“Keep it,” John said with a shrug. “He’s a rich fancy guy. He probably has a million of them. He’ll never know it’s gone. And stuffing it in your bag is a lot safer than trying to sneak it back into that closet of his while Leiford is stumbling about the place.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” John said with a yawn as he climbed into bed.
“All right then,” Remmy said as he removed the robes. He made to stuff the robes into a compact ball to better fit into his pack, when he felt something strangely crinkly inside the robe. He slid his hand along the inside of the lapel and found a hidden inner pocket. He reached inside and withdrew a tattered old letter. His eyes widened as he saw the broken wax seal of the king on the letter’s edge. He unfolded the letter and began to read, his jaw steadily falling further as he did so.
“By the gods above…” he muttered as he finished reading. “John, you’re not going to believe this, but—”
Just then, Remmy was cut off by one of John’s raucous snores.
Remmy smiled and folded the letter up and replaced it in the pocket. “Guess I’ll tell you later, buddy.”
And with that, Remmy finished packing away the robes and climbed into bed.
Chapter 22
Desolate Prospects
During the days that followed their return from the viceroy’s manor house, Rialta insisted that the group only take on quests and missions that were significantly safer than clearing out the crypt. John protested that they had never been in any real danger during the crypt mission, but he deferred to Rialta all the same.
Remmy managed to discover that there was a large construction project on a plot of land to the south of the Chasm: the development of a new town pioneered by a group of young men and women who had recently migrated from Raorik to Tyntala on the promise of free land and a small stipend of raw materials. Rialta and the others traveled to the newly forming town and offered their services. The settlers hired them to assist with constructing several cabins in a development the new arrivals had named ‘Ceciliana’ after an ancient goddess of birth and new beginnings. The settlers were especially pleased with John’s ability to carry an absurd amount of weight, and he was a great asset in transporting materials from their caravans to the respective worksites. Though the newcomers had no money, Rialta and the others were paid with supplies such as coffee, cured meat, dried vegetables, jarred preserves, salt and various spices, several bars of soap, and some coal.
Shortly after their return from Ceciliana, a union of farmers from a small town called Moravia made a posting in the Chasm. The farmers sought help dealing with a small group of sheepstalkers that had been killing and eating their livestock. This quest proved to be particularly easy
, as it turned out that there were only four sheepstalkers pestering Moravia. With the newfound help of Nivin and Lorenza, the battle was completely one-sided. Rialta, Nivin, and John were the muscle of their newly formed crew, while Lorenza and Remmy—neither of whom could participate directly in combat—instead provided their support from afar. The fight was over before the sheepstalkers had a chance to retaliate, and the adventurers were each paid five beryth for their efforts.
The remaining days before their two-week deadline to get to the Lonely Plains passed quickly. During this time, the only thing Rialta found particularly surprising was that Nivin and Lorenza were apparently perfectly happy to allow Remmy to collect a fifth of all their spoils even though he seemed to contribute the least to the group. Rialta always found herself feeling guilty whenever this thought occurred to her. She had begun to enjoy Remmy’s company, despite his many faults. Certainly she believed there was value in Remmy’s friendship, charisma, and companionship, but these values did very little in the heat of battle. Nevertheless, Nivin and Lorenza willingly shared their rewards and treasure with Remmy without the slightest hint of hesitation or resentment, and Rialta simply accepted that it was an unspoken rule to never question his efficacy as a cleric.
While their days were generally consumed with their work, the nights would generally find them all back in the Chasm, where they would enjoy each other’s company at the Pampered Quail. Their meals would often stretch on for hours into the night, but Amy and the other inn staff were more than happy to accommodate them, for they were quickly becoming the establishment’s most profitable customers.
On the morning of their planned trip to the Lonely Plains, Rialta, Remmy, and John met in the lobby of the inn to prepare their supplies before heading out. They had stocked up on all the essentials, including all of the supplies they had earned in Ceciliana and plenty of fresh water. They had also packed up their tents and some spare clothes. John agreed to carry the majority of their baggage, given his raw strength. When they were finished packing, they met with Lorenza and Nivin, both of whom were carrying packs of their own, on the outskirts of town. Together, the five of them set off for the Lonely Plains with Lorenza guiding their way.
A Quest for Chumps (Departed Dimensions Book 1) Page 16
